Both Broken } Isaac Lahey x OC

? FURY ?

"Marley, as much as I love dancing with you, my feet are so numb," Isaac whispered. Marley laughed into his neck, shivers running down his spine.

After dancing, they talked, drank, and laughed until most people had gone home. They only reason they left was because Marley was practically falling asleep on Isaac. Drool definitely wouldn't go with his outfit.

Isaac didn't make it home for 11:00.

That's how he got his black eye.

...

"Marley! What the hell? I've been calling for to hours," Stiles said through the phone.

"Sorry I was... nothing. What is it?" Marley asked, rubbing her face with her palm.

"You need to get to the station now," Stiles said, "my dad's helping us find proof that Matt's the killer."

...

"This better be good," Marley said as she walked through into Sheriff Stilinski's office. They all sat around his desk, where a computer screen lit up their faces.

"Hey," Scott said. Marley moved next to Stiles and looked down the the laptop Sheriff Stilinski had opened. There were hundreds of files.

"Check the hospital stuff first," Stiles said.

"I don't know, guys. I mean, look at this. There was a six-car pileup that night, the hospital was jammed," the Sheriff said, clicking on a file.

"All right, just keep going. Look, he had to have passed one of the cameras on that floor to get to Jessica, okay? He's gotta be on the footage somewhere," Stiles said. The video played, and all Marley could see was people go by casually.

"Wait hold on! Did you see that? Go back," Scott said. Sheriff Stilinski rewound the tape.

"That's him! That's Matt!" Marley said, pointing a finger at the screen.

"All I see is the back of someone's head," the Sheriff sighed.

"Matt's head, yeah. I sit behind him in history. He's got a very distinct cranium, it's weird," Stiles said, waving his hands strangely.

"Are you crazy?" Sheriff asked. Marley knew this wasn't a serious question, but for someone who didn't know Stiles, it would be deemed as appropriate.

"All right, fine, then look at his jacket, huh? How many people do you know who wear black leather jackets?" Stiles questioned, not winning his case.

"Literally millions," Marley mumbled to the boy.

"Okay, can we scroll forward?" Scott asked, the video played again. "There's gotta be a shot of him coming at one of the cameras."

"Right there! See, he's there again," Stiles said aggressively.

"You mean the back of his head again?" The sheriff asked, clearly done with Stiles's bull-

"Wait, he's talking to someone," Marley said, leaning forward to see the picture clearer.

"He's talking to my mum," Scott said. Marley didn't know Miss McCall that well, but she seemed nice. They had had one encounter, when her mum made her apologise to Scott in kindergarten for breaking his toy dinosaur, and his mum was there.